


Operation Fish Tank

by quakinginmystylishboots



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Missing Scenes, Post-Canon, Spoilers for all seasons, silly premise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 01:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30014145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakinginmystylishboots/pseuds/quakinginmystylishboots
Summary: Snapshots of Daisy and the team through the years, loosely connected by the quest to fly on a plane/spaceship with an aquarium on board. It's probably as silly as it sounds, but there's some angst along the way and Bus Kids feels.
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Phil Coulson & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	Operation Fish Tank

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, remember how in 1x02 Fury told Coulson he better not have FitzSimmons make modifications to the Bus, "like a damn fish tank"? Which they had actually planned to (the "we're gonna have to kill the fish tank" was Clark improvising btw). Well, I imagine the idea of a fish tank came from Skye and FitzSimmons shooting the breeze together and then it stayed with them through the years.
> 
> English isn't my first language so advanced apologies for language weirdness and grammar fails. 
> 
> Marvel owns it all, which is a shame because they don't seem to want to do anything else cool with it.

**October 2013, The Slingshot, Location: Classified.**

“I'm just saying, if you have people over to your house to fix the roof or whatever, might as well take the opportunity to do some extra bits, too, right?”. Skye didn't actually have a clue, not having ever owned a house or hardly lived in a proper one for more than a few months at a time. But she wasn't going to tell the Science Wonders that.

Crammed into Jemma Simmons' room in the Slingshot's residential quarters – a small volume all beige and greys that looked positively jail-like compared to the upscale cozyness of the Bus – the younger members of Phil Coulson's team were sitting together on the twin bed, looking over the aircraft's blueprints currently displayed on Leo Fitz's laptop.

The Bus was undergoing maintenance for the big hole in the fuselage and other assorted destruction suffered during their recent Peruvian mission. Temporarily grounded by the unavailability of their flying base of operations, the team was housed on site until the work's completion. 

Skye's apprehension over the damage – shooting a hole in the plane had been her idea, after all – had been quelled by the team claiming collective responsibility and Coulson's praise, and in the wake of the incident the newly hired consultant and the two British scientists had bonded. Together, they were now brainstorming modifications to the Bus.

“But why a fish tank?” Fitz asked, while sketching down a complex array of pumps, aerators and feeders. It looked more like a scientific experiment and less like the big fishbowl Skye had imagined.

“Aquariums have proven health benefits –” Simmons interjected, before Skye could answer him.

“I'd rather have a monkey than fish...”

“...lowered blood pressure, stress reduction, slowing heart rates...” 

“...a Capuchin, or maybe a Vervet...”

“...many studies have shown their calming effect on people, including the improvement of sleep patterns...”

“...we could teach it to wash test tubes with its adorable little hands... ” 

“...and recent events clearly demonstrate how it would be an asset to...”

“A monkey would be a true asset!”

“...aid with the team's mental health...”

“It could go on missions and...”

“Oh, Fitz!”

“ _Oh, Simmons!_ ”

“Picard has one!”, Skye blurted out, feeling like she'd just stop a rally calling “out!” in a tennis match.

The overlapping chatter abruptly halted and both Fitz and Simmons turned to look at her.

“On the Enterprise”, Skye clarified, suddenly feeling very silly under the Brits' stare “it's in his office? So, I think Coulson should have one because he's, like, our Picard, right? Also, the stuff about reducing stress sounds important”, she added with a smaller voice, “and a monkey would be unhappy stuck on a plane, don't you think?”

The scientists looked at each other, doing that psychic communication thing Skye had already decided was _them_. And cute. 

Then Simmons smiled, Fitz nodded, and Skye smiled, too.

Operation Fish Tank was a go. 

Until the most badass-looking person not named Melinda May that Skye had ever seen swaggered onto the Bus in a leather coat, yelled at Coulson and vetoed it.

**May 2015, The Playground, Location: Classified.**

“You wanted to see me, A.C.?” Skye asked, entering Coulson's office without waiting for an answer after a quick knock.

“That looks massive. Are we getting a plane or a whole new base?” she commented, flopping down on the only chair currently not occupied by documents, taking in the stacks of blueprints and schematics for the new aircraft Fitz had designed that covered Coulson's desk.

Phil Coulson smiled at her fondly.

Andrew had assured him she was coping with the events of the past weeks better than anyone should be expected to, but hearing her joking and using that old nickname for him gave the professional assessment a heartening tangibility.

“That's the idea. We can't quite afford another helicarrier, and Fury isn't given that one back to us anytime soon, but this will make us capable of even faster deployment around the world without the overhead, and it will work as a mobile base just as effectively with our smaller numbers. Weeks in the air with no need to touch down and refuel”.

“You can't wait to play with your new toy, can you?”, she teased him.

“I can't wait to play with my new toy, no, but you're going to like it, too, you'll see”. 

“I might like it even more if you gave Fitz the go ahead for some modifications” she started, but Coulson was one step ahead of her.

“If this is about the fish tank, I already told him no”.

Skye looked almost hurt. “Why? Last time you loved the idea!”

“That was the Bus. This is the Mobile Command and Strategic Deployment Headquarters… completely different vibe”. He smirked in a very non-directorial way.

“You're not seriously going to call it that?”

Coulson shrugged good-naturedly. “We'll pick something shorter. In the meantime, Fitz's design is final, unless you have suggestions that will improve its _core_ function”.

The young agent started pouting then seemed to think better of it. “You know, you were more fun when you weren't Director”.

“It was more fun for me, too, believe me. Now come, there's a different project I wanted to talk to you about”, he said standing up, grabbing a blue folder titled “Caterpillar”, “but first, we're taking Lola for a little ride”. Looking at his stump, he added “You're driving”.

Skye looked simultaneously touched, eager and sad, but gave him an assertive nod. “Okay. Actually, I have something else I wanted to talk to you about, too. But this is isn't over. FitzSimmons are on my side, sir. Operation Fish Tank will live on”.

When they returned, Skye with a new name and a new mission, the Playground was on lockdown. 

Simmons was missing. 

Operation Fish Tank was forgotten.

**May 2018, The Lighthouse, Location: Lake Ontario**

Daisy had always found the sound of water soothing, even before Terrigenesis had dramatically expanded her senses. Now, being close to a body of water meant the world around her smoothed over, the ever present buzzing of vibrations – the thousand bees she had learned to tame and master – receding peacefully into the background. 

It was the one redeeming quality of the Lighthouse, its location. Daisy hadn't been a fan of the place in the future, despite the impressive feat of surviving the literal destruction of the planet, and her stay in the present hadn't improve that first impression. 

Grey hallways. Grey rooms. Cold. Darkness. Ghosts. And, now, too many bad memories. 

But, there was the lake. Coming out of the bunker to soak in the restful effect of the water had become a daily ritual, now that the world wasn't ending. The sun and the solitude were welcomed, too.

She hated being stuck waiting for the necessary upgrades on the Zephyr to be completed before heading out after Fitz. It made her restless and restlessness didn't work with her and confined spaces. And everything was still...raw. 

The once easy camaraderie she's shared with the team had frayed and she didn't know how to unfray it while her mind kept going to dark places and every day meant May's call from Tahiti grew closer. 

Mourning her family alone on a shore was better than mourning in a bunker, feeling alone in a crowd. So she worked on their software security while tucked in out-of-the-way corners of the base, like a cat changing its napping spot every few days following the atavistic instinct of masking itself from predators, and then went outdoors when she needed a break. The routine kept her grounded, if nothing else.

Daisy felt Mack's confident approach, his steady vibrations making him identifiable without having to see or hear, and didn't bother to act surprised when he sat down next to her.

“Maybe we should move our briefings outside, or have a weekly company picnic on the shore. For morale”. His warm baritone was as soothing as the water.

“As long as I'm not in charge of the food, why not” she replied, but her heart wasn't into it and the banter fell flat.

Mack gave her a measuring look. 

“You know, you don't have to do it, Tremors. Elena can go instead. Or I could. I wouldn't mind switching jobs again, to be frank”.

“We picked you”, she told him, seeing in his gentle expression that he understood beyond the words. “No backsies, boss. And, I want to go. I think...I think I'd like not being here for a while. And if things turn rough... I'm the heavy-hitter. The mission will be safer with me. Plus, I always wanted to go to space. I'm kinda looking forward to that, actually”.

Turning her eyes toward the lake, she sighed. “I'm gonna miss the water, though”.

“Funny you should say that. Did you know Simmons wanted to put a fish tank in the Zephyr's conference room? She came to her senses quickly. We are working within a _tight_ time frame”. Mack shook his head, chuckling.

The memory of a carefree afternoon spent planning renovations and making friends she would still die for hit her, and she felt a little steadier. What was lost, she could find again.

**September 2020, Zephyr One, Location: L5, Theta Serpentis A.**

“Did you move the weapons storage? I can't find it on the new schematics”

Tablet in hand, indicating the blueprints for the Zephyr One's upgrades they were tirelessly working to complete open on the screen, Jemma Simmons took in her husband's ragged appearance. Another night with the Time Stream, no doubt. She wished he'd let her share the burden but that particular division of duties had been long forced on them. 

“Ah, no, that's not... that's just an alternate design. Not the one we're going with”, Fitz replied a little sheepish, half-making a move to take the tablet from her, changing his mind and passing his hand through his curls instead. 

Scrolling through the document, she understood why.

“You put in the fish tank”. The surge of fondness and wistfulness almost made her stagger. 

“Just a proof of concept. We don't have resources to spare for...non mission critical systems”

“Well. Daisy would appreciate the thought. _Will_ appreciate the thought”. At the correction, Fitz's face fell.

“What is it?”

“The time stream... It showed me many possible versions of the events. Some... some are really bad for her, Jemma”.

“But she's going to be fine. Isn't she?”

“I... I hope so. I mean. She should. The worst outcomes have low odds. Except...they make more sense than the other way. With who she is. Who they all are. You know? And then the odds become not so great...”

“It doesn't matter”, Simmons said forcefully, “We always beat the odds”. 

That strength of conviction was his lifeline. Fitz nodded, first to his wife than to himself. They had no choice. It needed to be done. He wondered if the other him had felt this way. He had seen his choices in the time stream, too. All the potential outcomes. But he couldn't think of that right now. Later... when they had saved themselves and the world... then... then he would have much to say to his friend. 

**October 2019, Triskelion Residential Units, Location: Washington D.C.**

“Blueprints for the new Zephyr?”

Carrying the groceries he had insisted on picking up personally rather than having delivered – _quality raw material is half the job when cooking, sweetheart_ he had explained, reminding her of Coulson's insistence on organic food – Daniel Sousa stopped by the couch Daisy was sitting on in the comfortably-sized accommodations S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided them while they were prepping for their new mission.

“Yup. I'm signing off on the final designs. You should look them over, too. See if you want to add something. Making changes later will be difficult, without returning back to Earth”.

Looking over the list of features for the main conference room, he startled.

“A fish tank? On a spaceship?” Sousa thought of spaceships as submarines. And, in his time, no one in his right mind would have installed fish tanks on submarines. 

“Aquariums have many health benefits, I'll have you know”, his girlfriend said smugly, “very important for stress reduction. Key to crew morale, you could say”.

And then it dawned on him. “This was _your_ idea”. Her bright and even smugger smile confirmed it. 

“None of the engineers objected?”

“I outsourced it to a pair of exceptionally well regarded consultants. And there's the great thing of being in charge of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new Galactic Outreach Initiative. Nobody can tell me no this time. Well, Mack _technically_ could, but he knows better”. 

That smug smirk was doing things to him. His mind, however, was a step behind. 

“This time? How long have you tried to put a fish tank on a flying machine?”

“A while. And I'm going to celebrate my victory with you. Starting with that home-made dinner you promised.”

Taking Sousa's proffered hand, Daisy planted a quick kiss on his lips as they both moved to the kitchen.

Three months later, standing in front of a large and beautifully lit fish tank in the conference room of the newly-christened Zephyr Three, Daisy took a selfie and, swatting down a pang of nostalgia, sent it to FitzSimmons with a quick text: _At last_.

Operation Fish Tank was a success. 

**December 2023, Zephyr Three, docked at The Peak, Location: Earth Orbit.**

Nicholas J. Fury, former Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., founder of the Avengers Initiative, current Director of S.W.O.R.D. and the connective tissue of all protectors of Earth, was impressed.

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s foray into space during his multi year's stint into nothingness had procured alliances, set exploration's milestones and gathered a veritable trove of intelligence on many potential threats to Earth's security. It was nothing short of remarkable. 

Joining forces with his former agency was clearly a no-brainer at this point, and it had been sometime since he had to make an effort to keep his famed poker face from slipping. He suspected his host, currently showing him around the vessel that had served as the flagship for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s outer space initiative these past few years, could tell.

He considered the woman, trying to remember the girl. He had only met her once, when she didn't know her name and her hair was probably different. S.H.I.E.L.D. had just collapsed and all it remained was a rag tag band of agents led by his man Phil Coulson, whom he had handed the charred remains of the once all-powerful organization and little else, before moving on. But he had kept up with her, and S.H.I.E.L.D., since, often marvelling at the phoenix-like qualities of both.

Her professional demeanour was a far cry from the brash young agent he would have expected only a few years earlier, but then, Daisy Johnson was a survivor and one quality all survivors shared, besides the stubborn unwillingness to give up, was adaptability. He would know, he was one himself.

He had once considered her a risk, that much he remembered. Clearly, it had paid off.

Entering the conference room where her second in command was waiting for them – and Fury would be lying if he hadn't done a mental double-take when he had learned the 21st century had acquired yet _another_ World War II veteran – his eye registered the diffuse light first... and then he saw it.

It occupied one entire wall, filled with fish and fish-like creatures he could easily tell, even with his lack of expertise on the subject, had not originated on Earth. 

A fish tank.

A damn fish tank, on a tactical spaceship. 

Something tugged at his memory, a sense of displaced deja-vu, like Karma had finally caught up with him. His host, meanwhile, seemed to have lost all her professional veneer and regarded him with the smuggest smirk he'd ever seen on anyone not named Stark. 

Nicholas J. Fury was a veteran of countless battles and wars, mostly secret ones, all bloody. He had never surrendered. Until now.

“Johnson.”

“Fury.”

“Nice fish tank”.

**Author's Note:**

> An experiment on board the ISS has shown that fish do worse than humans in a microgravity environment but of course the Zephyr 3 has artificial gravity. I'm also confident FitzSimmons designed a redundant artificial gravity system within the fish tank so in the event of a failure of the main system, the fish would be protected.
> 
> I have actually no idea if there have been fish tanks on submarines and whether the idea would be farfetched or not. In this universe, it is xD. 
> 
> Fury is the director of S.W.O.R.D. from the comics, not WandaVision, and I'm pretending the space station he was on at the end of Far From Home was The Peak (S.W.O.R.D. headquarters in the comics).


End file.
